


Plus Two

by mayle



Series: Then There Were Six [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 00:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21217697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayle/pseuds/mayle
Summary: Ray has no time, no energy, and certainly no patience for bullshit. He’s cold, ruthless. He needs to get this job done. Nothing else matters, he tells himself, even as the warm members of Fake AH melt his frozen heart.Trigger warning: Self-harm/suicide





	1. Chapter 1

Ray winced at the flash of light. He jerked from the scope and rubbed at his eyes under his glasses.

“Fuck!” He barked, “Fucking sun.”

He readjusted and focused back on the group. The mustached one was putting away the silver flask he’d drank from. _Asshole. _ _ Be more considerate of unsuspected snipers, dick. _Next to him, the redhead was talking. Ray hadn’t had the opportunity to really look at them the last few days, but with the scope, he could clearly see her face. He focused on her lips.

_Should be. We’ve already spent so much. That thing was more money than I care to admit._

She paused, looking at the one with the wolf jacket. Ray couldn’t see his face, he was turned away, but he was gesturing as though speaking. Mustache started laughing. Apparently Wolf was funny. Red looked exasperated.

_It does, but that’s not exactly my biggest concern for a vehicle._

Mustache elbowed her with a wicked grin.

_We have an image._

Wolf and Mustache laughed while Red shook her head. Ray watched her lips curl in amusement.  Way too happy, he thought. He felt his finger itching.  _Just a fraction of a centimeter downwards and that smile could be gone forever__._ His vision blurred at the edges. _One tiny motion, less than the effort of such a smile, with less strength than flexing a single finger._

He sighed.  _Whatever_. He had a job to do. He refocused on the group.  _One, two, three, and-wait. Where was four? There should be a-_

A gun pressed to the back of his head. 

_Oops._

“Uh, hi, how’s it going?” He mumbled, “Don’t suppose I could convince you not to shoot?”

Four said nothing, just pressed the gun closer. Ray took the hint and pulled his hands away from his own gun to put on his head. Four took hold of the back of his hoodie and hauled him to his feet. Ray tried not to think about how easy it was for the man to pick him up one handed. Handcuffs went around his wrists.

“No zip ties, huh? How professional.”

Again Four said nothing, only patted Ray down for weapons. Ray felt like a total loser having not a single other weapon on him.

“I, uh, forgot my purse at home,” he said, “Sorry to disappoint, dude.”

Four ignored him, taking him to the center of the roof before retrieving his gun. Ray peeked over his shoulder. Four was careful with his gun, running appreciative hands over it before he hiked the strap up on his shoulder. He turned back to Ray.  _ Skull mask. Edgy.  _

“Celebrating Halloween early, Jason?” He asked dryly.

The man appeared mute. He walked over, hoisted Ray up over one shoulder and walked away. 

“This happens to me in Dead by Daylight all the time,” Ray commented, “Do you get royalties from them using your image?”

Silence . They were thumping down a set of stairs now. 

“Man, no sense of humor,” Ray muttered, “Bet you’re killer at parties. But like literally killing. As opposed to me killing it with these sick jokes.”

Four pushed open a door and set him on the ground, holding on to him while he regained his land legs. They were standing next to a black van that shone in the harsh sunlight.  _Ugh_.

“Bit cliche, but it’s nice and clean for once.”

Still nothing. The man unlocked his cuffs and opened the passenger door.

“Didn’t know Michael Myers was such a gentleman,” he mumbled as he climbed in.

Four leaned over him, buckling his seat belt before looping the handcuffs around his wrists again.

“You sure know how to show a guy a good time.”

The man closed the door.

“Well, that guy is physically unable to laugh cuz I am killing it right now.”

Ray’s eyes followed the man as he walked around to the hood of the car. He paused, pulling off the skull mask.  _Face paint, long sandy hair, blue eyes__._ Said eyes were looking at him without expression. Then the man was talking, pressing a finger to his ear. Ray noted the van was soundproof. That didn’t bode well for him.

_I’ve got him. Understood. Yes, sir. Yes. _

The man looked away sharply.

_What?_

His eyebrows had pulled together.

_Understood._

The line seemed cut off as his hand dropped and he stared down at the car for a moment. He slammed a fist on the hood before he walked the rest of the way around and stowed Ray’s gun in the back. He got in, buckled up, and threw Ray an annoyed look. 

“What’s up? Not a fan of babysitting?” Ray asked.

The man started up the engine and pulled out of the alley.

“Hey, I saw your mouth moving,” Ray pointed out, “I know you can talk.”

He still said nothing. Ray puffed out an annoyed sigh.

“This road trip is gonna be laaame.”

~~~

Four dropped him in the chair unceremoniously. Much more carelessly than before. He seemed angry, but Ray couldn’t tell why. Surely the man would’ve known he had to deal with him.  _Whatever._

“Don’t suppose we can skip to the torture part?” Ray asked sarcastically, “I, uh, get pretty bored in these interrogations.”

Four didn’t even look at him as he chained the cuffs to the chair. He then whisked out of the room without a word.

“Dope.”

Ray’s eyes flicked around the room. Four had driven him to and then dragged him through a bunker without bothering to cover his eyes. At least he knew the way out. The problem was the entire place seemed to operate on some smart system that could tell who was trying to use it. And without a weapon there was no way he could take Four. Dude was too massive and too strong. Ray puffed out a sigh. 

Right, what were their real names, again? Mustache was...Geoff, the Merciless King. Red was Jack, the Roadkill Queen. Wolf was Mogar, the Explosive Prince. And Four was...Vagabond, the Psychotic Joker. A complete mystery to all, supposedly even AH. He just appeared out of thin air in the gang and had ties to no one but AH. The man in question opened the door and let in Mogar who gave Ray a weirdly friendly little wave. 

From the front, he looked more like a nerd than a gangster. _Pretty, pale, freckles._ He even had glasses. Ray felt disappointed. He’d kinda hoped that the interrogation would be more interesting, with some nice pain... Well, whatever, now all he needed was to rile up the man and get him to slip up. It shouldn’t be too difficult. He was young, fiery, known for his explosive rage and manic laughter. Already unhinged enemies were easy to manipulate. 

“Hi there!” Mogar chirped cheerfully as he made his way over, “My name’s Mogar, but I bet you already knew that.”

“That’s a pretty dumb name,” Ray quipped. 

“Okay, what’s yours then?” The boy laughed.

“BrownMan.”

“Ha! And you think mine is dumb?!” Mogar cackled.

“Well, my name is logical,” Ray pointed out, “You just sound like a really extra-named dog.”

Mogar’s face twisted into a sneer of disgust.  _Target acquired._

“I guess you must be a dog,” Ray went on, “Your eyes are like a puppy, your mop looks like dog hair, and you call yourself Mogar? Did your master give you that name? I thought it was a wolf on your jacket. Guess it’s a dog.”

Ray’s words seemed to stab right into Mogar like he was a pincushion. Ray felt a swell of sick pleasure at wiping the stupid smile off his face. He stepped closer to Ray and leaned over him. One of his hands gripped the back of his chair, as though to trap him where he sat. 

“I guess I do have some similarities with a dog,” he whispered.

He leaned closer, brushing his lips on Ray’s ear. Ray shuddered. He was warm, so close and so warm. Ray felt heat spread under his skin.

“But I’m definitely a wolf,” he growled lowly.

Ray nearly gasped out loud at the sparks Mogar sent through him. He pulled back to look in Ray’s eyes and Ray felt paralyzed by his gaze. His face was so close. He was radiating such heat. His eyes were half lidded and they flicked down to look at Ray’s lips. A shiver went up Ray’s spine as Mogar leaned in, slowly closing the gap between them. His head tilted and Ray’s eyelids began to droop.  _ So warm,  _ _so close_.

Suddenly Mogar straightened up and clapped his hands, startling Ray, who was dazed and bewildered. 

“Well, that’s all I needed!” He said, “Thanks for your cooperation, BrownMan.”

His lips spread in a wild smile and he winked. Ray’s heart nearly exploded from the wink.  _Pretty, _his mind supplied unhelpfully. Mogar made for the door, but before he left, he looked over his shoulder at the still reeling Ray.

“Oh, and if you ever call me a dog again, I’ll teach you just how dangerous wolves can get. Toodles!”

Ray’s mind swam as they left the room.  _What the fuck?_ He sighed and slumped down in the chair.  _Okay, rule #1: Don’t underestimate Fake AH._

~~~

“He’s unassociated,” Michael said as he sat, “He’s not after me. Or not me specifically.”

He began flipping through the guys wallet. No credit, no debit, no cash. Also no ID. Not even a fake. He did have a picture of himself with his mother though. And both a blockbuster and a GameStop card for some reason. Oh, and some folded piece of paper. Michael pulled it out and unfolded it.

“What the hell does that even say?” Ryan muttered over his shoulder, “His handwriting sucks.”

“So does yours,” he reminded him, “But it’s times, written out in Spanish. Must be practicing, but the times are too specific to just be for practice. Jack?”

He turned the page towards her. She frowned.

“I can’t read a word on there,” she grumbled, “Who taught him to write, Edward Scissorhands??”

Michael barked out a laugh and flipped it back towards himself.

“8:46am,” he read, “9am. 9:11am. 9:23am. 9:44am. 10am. 10:23am. 12:31pm. 1pm. 3:12pm. 3:32pm. 4:5-“

“That’s our movements,” Jack interrupted, “Day before yesterday. 8:46am we left the house. 9am we got to Fridge, 9:11am we left Fridge, 9:23am we dropped off a package, 9:44am we went home, 10am Geoff and I left, 10:23am we got to the office.”

“So he  has  been following us for three days,” Michael said, eyebrows raised, “Yet he had no money. He’s got to have a base of operations somewhere then. But how is he following us with no vehicle?”

“He knows where we’re going,” Geoff answered, “Or at least, he knows where to expect us.”

“Then he might have a partner,” Jack added, “Maybe someone feeding him the info. Did he have an ear piece or a phone?”

“Phone,” Michael answered, producing it, “But no contacts, no call history, no texts, no emails, nothing.”

He pushed it towards Jack.

“He’s a lone wolf,” Ryan spoke up, “He’s out here alone, but he was sent by someone who knows more about us. He probably didn’t get much more than our locations and I think it’s on purpose. They haven’t checked in with him and he hasn’t checked in either. They weren’t expecting him to survive. He’s a suicider.”

Geoff and Jack shared a pensive look.


	2. Chapter 2

Ray felt itchy. He didn’t have time for this. Every second he waited for them to return was another second wasted. He needed to get his job done with and leave. His knee bounced anxiously. Finally, after 926 seconds, the usual suspects filed in and lined up in front of him.

“Hello, there,” Geoff greeted, “My name is Geoff, it’s nice to meet you.”

“That seems unlikely,” Ray countered.

“Well, we like talented young men,” Geoff laughed, “Recruitment is a fun venture.”

“Recruitment into what? An asylum?”

“Hm, not quite,” the man replied, “But I suppose we do look a bit crazy from an outsider’s view.”

“A bit??”

“Ha! Maybe more than a bit,” he conceded, with an amused smile, “But what do you think?”

“I think “a bit” is a gross understatement and this place is an asylum. I’m not batshit though. I’m definitely safe to send into public.”

AH gave varying reactions of amusement.  _Just torture me already,_ Ray begged,  _I have other shit to do!_ Sparks flew up and down his spine at the thought. If they did torture him...what would they do? A fire was starting low in his belly as images of knives, ropes, lighters, and bullets flashed in his brain.

“How about you join us?” Geoff said.

Ray felt anxiety spike in his gut.  _Shit_. He couldn’t be a part of a betrayal, not now! He was so close! But then again, he could always fake allegiance and then later use their trust to finally finish his job. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He’d never get the job done if they splattered his brains on the wall.

“Alright,” he finally said, “I guess I’m bored enough to join up. Where do I sign?”

They all grinned wildly happy and dangerous smiles and Ray couldn’t wait to put a bullet in each of their stupid pleased faces.

~~~

“And BrownMan is with Vagabond,” Jack finished.

Ray blinked. What were they doing? He was tired, swaying where he sat. When had he last slept?  _Whatever_. He was moving, he realized. Vagabond had taken hold of his wrist. 

Ray recoiled, twisting his hand to break the hold. Vagabond paused only to throw him a glare and continued leading the way. Ray’s wrist burned from the physical contact.  _Warm__._ His lips turned into a sneer of disdain, but he followed the man through a garage.  _ Whatever. _

Vagabond lead him to a motorcycle. Ray hesitated. If he got on...he’d be forced to touch the other man. Vagabond didn’t leave time for questions or disagreement. He mounted the bike and kicked up the stand in one swift, perfect motion. Ray shivered. He scrambled on the back, trying to find a way to sit safely without touching the man. Vagabond growled at him, took hold of his hand and put it on the edge of his own jacket. Ray wished his hands would stop shaking. 

As Vagabond started the bike, Ray nearly immediately jumped towards him, all parts of him squeezing him. He shook and he hated himself, but he was too scared he’d fall off. Vagabond didn’t seem to give two shits and quickly zipped from the garage. 

Ray’s shaking only increased as he realized how close to the road he was. He plastered himself to Vagabond’s back and buried his face into the leather. The bike was vibrating, he was vibrating, Vagabond was vibrating. His heart was vibrating in his chest, matching their speed. He peeked out and watched the scenery flying by. They were going so fast, the open air whipping against his face. His eyes flicked down to the pavement. Inches away from his foot. He shivered. He subconsciously squeezed his thighs. _So close to the road. _ _One wrong move and_...he shivered again. 

His heart pounded in his chest and his pants were rapidly tightening. _One wrong move and _ _splat!_ He moaned, but the wind took it and whisked it away behind them. His face was warm.  _Not now__,_ he groaned at himself. He didn’t have time for this!  _Focus, focus!_ But the idiot in his pants had no idea what that word meant.

~

Ray was visibly shaking when they dismounted. He leaned against the brick wall in the alley and took deep breaths.  _No time for that now__,_ he chastised himself.  _Get your fucking suicide boner in check and get this damn job done! _He puffed out a breath.  _ Okay, go time. _

He turned to find Vagabond pulling down a fire escape ladder. He tried not to look shaken, but Vagabond only turned a blank face on him as he gestured for him to go first. Ray jumped to it, quickly scaling the ladder. Vagabond was quick behind him and slid past him to lead the way. He stopped at a window and twirled his finger in the air, commanding Ray to turn around. He spun and nearly let out a filthy moan.  _Right here??_ He thought wildly. But Vagabond merely opened the pack on his back and retrieved something from it.

Ray felt a wash of heat and shame.  _Damnit, get it together! Obviously not here or anywhere else! The dude’s psychotic! He’d probably choke me to death while he was going at it!_ Ray’s suicide boner definitely didn’t perk up at the thought. Jesus, how long had it been?? ..._years_, he thought with a jolt. No wonder their closeness was getting to him.

Vagabond interrupted his bizarre train of thought by dropping the item back in the pack. Ray turned back around and Vagabond gestured for him to go through the now open window.

“Do you like looking at my ass or do you think it’s fun to watch me struggle?” He asked dryly.

He gave the silent man no time to answer, instead ducking through the window. As he tripped and landed face first on carpet, he decided the answer to his question was definitely the latter. He laid on the carpet as Vagabond pushed his legs through and followed after him. 

“Don’t mind me,” he grumbled into the floor, “It’s only my pride that’s broken.”

Vagabond let out a snort of laughter that startled Ray into looking up. He was already across the room, however, not giving Ray a view of his laughing face. Ray stumbled to his feet. He pressed his hand to his throat, or rather to what was there, hidden by his hoodie. He took a deep breath.  _Okay, focus__,_ he told himself,  _you don’t have time for this. Finish this job, then kill them._ He was so close now. He needed to keep his head clear. He puffed out a breath and focused.

Vagabond turned and waved him over. Ray joined him in front of a large painting that had a heavy, ornate looking frame.  _Oh boy. A safe behind a picture?_ He rolled his eyes as Vagabond pulled it open. Behind the painting was, in fact, a safe. A large, ancient looking one that Ray was almost sure would dissolve into rust if they poured water over it. 

“What is this, a movie??” He demanded.

Vagabond hissed out a shushing noise from the door. Ray shot an icy glare at him before turning back to the safe.  _Three digit combo. Probably a date_ _._ He could probably guess it if they had time to take a look around, but that was unnecessary. A safe this old would have tumblers loud enough to hear across the room. Sure enough, it took no more than a minute to crack. He dumped the contents of the safe into the pack and moved to close it back. Before it could close, Vagabond was there, his fingers stopping it. He hissed annoyance from the door smashing his fingers.

“Don’t be a baby,” Ray muttered.

Vagabond threw him a glare, but pulled something from his jacket. Ray stiffened as he realized the larger man was pressed against him.  _Warm__._ He finished his business quickly and stepped away. Ray closed the painting.  _ Stay focused.  _

On their way out, Vagabond quickly shoved him through the window. Before he could “wtf?!”, he heard a gunshot and ducked to the side.  _Oops__._ Vagabond was out quicker and smoother and he nearly dragged Ray down the escape. Ray’s heart was frantic and his breathing was fast. He barely registered the bullet as it hit his arm. 

He was laughing as they jumped down the ladder and hopped on the bike. He grinned into Vagabond’s back, unable to suppress the wild giggle that burst from him. Vagabond shoved a gun into his hand as they shot out of the alley. Ray could imagine the insane look on his face as they zipped through the streets. They were miles away before he remembered he was in pain. He suddenly felt woozy.  _Right__._ He was bleeding. 

He looked down at his arm, where it was hanging limply at his side. His hoodie was soaked, the blood had seeped through and bloomed across the middle. It looked like he’d dyed his hoodie half red. That seemed like a lot of blood. If he said nothing, would he bleed out before Vagabond noticed? He giggled as he swayed. He could probably die if he just stayed quiet. His face split into a grin so wide it hurt. But he was forgetting something. He needed to do something.  _Focus, focus!_ He was wobbling. 

_I have to...keep...focused...I need to...save..._

He slumped forward as his vision darkened.

_...her._


	3. Chapter 3

Ray shivered.  It was so dark, so quiet, so cold. He was frozen.  _Nowhere to move. No air to breathe._ His tears froze on his face. His throat tightened, the collar squeezed him. He whimpered in the dark.

_Please, please no more! _

He choked around more frozen tears as it tightened further. The walls were getting closer now, the box was shrinking. He sobbed as the box began to crush him.

_Please, please! I’m sorry! No more! Please! _

“Ray? Ray, can you hear me?”

_Words? A voice? _

“Ray, wake up! No one’s going to hurt you, okay? They aren’t here.”

He was sleeping? He could feel a gentle hand patting his face.  _Warm__._ The box was fading. 

“Come on, buddy, you gotta wake up! You’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you.”

_Warm_ _._ He knew the voice. He reached for the warm hand on his cheek. The collar was gone now too. He squeezed the hand as his eyes fluttered open. Mogar’s face was floating above him. It was his warm hand on his cheek. 

Ray blinked as Mogar’s face filled with relief. He flinched, recoiling from his touch. Mogar backed off quickly. Ray’s eyes darted around the room.  _Where?_ He tried to sit up and his arm throbbed with pain. He pushed through it, sitting and looking around.  _Vagabond, Mogar, Jack, Geoff._ Fake AH was all around him.

Ray’s eyes followed Mogar as he shuffled to Vagabond. He dropped his head to Vagabond’s chest. His shoulders were shaking. Vagabond pulled him into a hug, stroking his curly hair. He was...crying? Ray felt a surge of guilt. Had he been too harsh? He squeezed his eyes closed against the emotion. It didn’t matter, he reminded himself. He pressed his fingers to his throat to remind himself. His eyes flew open as he frantically groped for the collar. 

He was naked, no, shirtless. His arm throbbed as a reminder. Of course. They had to remove his hoodie and shirt to get at his wound properly. His hands began to shake.  _They-they took my collar!_

“Wh-Where is it?!” He cried, struggling to his feet.

A needle tugged at his arm. He shuddered, ripping the thing from him. He wavered. The tile floor was cold on his bare feet. He felt sick. His head swam. He slumped, struggling to stay upright.

“Wh-What did you do w-with it?” He shrieked.

He pushed at the hands trying to steady him. He was shaking. His body was jerking, his heart was pounding. Oh god, he was having a heart attack! Strong hands pushed him to a seated position and pressed his head between his knees.

“Out! Out! Everyone out!”

A hoarse voice was yelling. Ray was panting. He couldn’t die! He couldn’t die! He didn’t have time for a heart attack!

“Ray? Listen to me, Ray,” Mogar’s voice drifted in his ear, “Take a deep breath through your nose.”

Ray’s body obeyed before he could fully react.

“Good boy,” Mogar purred.

Ray flinched and he gasped harshly.

“Oh, shit, s-sorry,” Mogar muttered, “Uh, good job, good job, Ray. Take another breath for me. In your nose.”

Ray obeyed again.

“Good job, Ray,” Mogar praised, “Now exhale through your mouth. In one slow, gentle breath.”

The air puffed out in a sigh. Mogar praised him again, walking him through more breaths. He was rubbing soothing circles on his back. Ray felt his heart rate slow, his muscles relaxed, and he could think straight again as Mogar muttered praises and sweet words he didn’t deserve. Ray felt weak.  _Moldable. Exhausted. Helpless. Stranded. _ He was drifting away. Mogar helped him lay back on the bed. Ray realized he was crying and so was the other man, his eyes shining and his face wet.

“I-I’m sorry,” Ray choked out, “I d-don’t mean to b-be rude. Er-earlier.”

Mogar shook his head and wiped at his tears. 

“Th-that wasn’t you,” he assured him, “You were j-just crying out in your sleep. I...was reminded.”

He shook his head.

“Not your fault,” he repeated firmly.

_Reminded?_ Ray’s head swam. He touched his throat again, still sort of surprised to find it bare. Mogar...had also had that? He shuddered. Had he...gone through the same as him? He looked at Mogar’s face. Pale, red eyes, subconsciously rubbing a spot on his face.  _No,_ Ray thought,  _he had it worse. _

“M-Mogar?”

“Call me Michael,” he corrected, turning to lock eyes with him.

“M-Michael, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You...were like me?” He asked cautiously.

Michael searched his eyes for a moment.

“Similar,” he finally answered, “I...don’t know your situation exactly...”

He looked away.

“I was a sex slave,” he mumbled, “With a trap on my head to keep me quiet. I was also brainwashed. Tortured pretty badly. But I came out on top in the end.”

He grinned and winked at Ray, trying to lighten the mood with the joke. Ray had been right. He _had_ had it way worse than him. Ray felt another twist of guilt. But Michael didn’t look upset, he was giving Ray a soft smile that he would never deserve. Ray’s throat tightened around all the things he wanted to tell him. He touched his throat again. He looked away.

“My collar...was similar to your trap,” he said, though he winced at the comparison, “I’m going to be in trouble...”

Michael squeezed his hand and sniffled.

“I’m sorry,” he choked, “I just didn’t want you to hurt any more.”

Ray looked at the boy in confusion and bewilderment.  _Why should he care about my pain? Just because we’re similar?_ Ray sighed and rolled away from his warmth. He didn’t have time for this. His body felt cold as Michael left. Ray shivered and squeezed his eyes closed.  _ Whatever. _

~~~

_Ryan_ was silent as he changed Ray’s bandage. The others had left telling him to ask  _Ryan_ if he needed anything.  _Ryan_ was apparently his designated babysitter. He almost preferred his silence since it seemed unlikely he’d try to connect with him. He glanced at the man in question as he taped the bandage. His face paint was a bit smeared now and his eyes looked tired. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered suddenly.

Ray nearly jumped in surprise. His voice was deep and rumbling, but smooth. Ray saw guilt and pain in his eyes as he stared at the bandage.

“I was supposed to have your back,” he muttered, “And I...”

His fingers brushed over the bandage, barely touching it. Ray felt sick. He slapped Ryan’s hand against the bandage, pressing it tightly against him. He shuddered at the pain and glared at him.

“I’m not a child,” he hissed, “And you can’t always save everyone from injury.”

He stared at Ray in shock for a moment and Ray leaned towards him. He pressed his hand harder against the bandage. He could practically feel the stitches pulling.

“If I ever see you pitying me again,” he whispered darkly, “I will put a bullet between those sparkling blues. Got it?”

Ryan’s face twisted into a pleased grin. He flexed his fingers and pressed them hard again Ray’s wound. Ray hissed through clenched teeth. His eyes were full of darkness and fire and Ray’s belly felt warm. Ryan pressed a hard kiss to his mouth.

“Got it,” he muttered, a smirk on his face.

He let go and Ray let his hand drop. Ryan stood and walked from the room. Ray felt warm all over. He was hot, everything was hot, he was suffocating in the heat. He fell back with an exhausted sigh.  _Go to sleep_, he grumbled at his boner. 

~~~

Ryan covered his mouth, leaning against the door.  What the fuck was he doing?? Was this his fetish now?? Younger broken boys whose adorable eyes were filled with pain??  He looked down at the betrayal in his pants.  _Goddamnit!_ Now he owed Michael 50 bucks.


	4. Chapter 4

Ray felt like barfing. He was sitting between Michael and Ryan with Geoff and Jack across from him. They were talking about a job, he thought, but he couldn’t be sure as his sense of hearing seemed muffled. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to find a way to kill them and get back. His fingers brushed his throat. Maybe he would be lenient about the collar if Ray completed the job.

“And that’s that,” Jack finished sort of sharply.

Ray blinked away the fuzziness in his brain.  _Job. Focus__._ Everyone was standing, so Ray did the same. Had he been paired with someone?? He went to follow Ryan as a safe bet, but Geoff called him back.

“You’re with Jack, dude,” he reminded him.

“Right.”

Ray felt heat on his face. It was hard to know what the fuck was going on when you’re essentially asleep on your feet. He traipsed after the woman feeling more like a ghost than a human. He was just floating around, not paying attention.  _Exhausted._

“Oh! Here, before I forget!” 

Jack stopped abruptly and passed something to him. A pink gun. A _custom_ pink handgun, he realized looking closer. A 45, with a poly ambidextrous grip and metal sights that sat in his hand like it was made for him. He aimed it at the ground, flexing his hand against the grip.  _Balanced, loaded, and new. _

“What do you think of the paint job?” Jack asked eagerly.

Ray glanced at her excited, eager look before he released his aiming grip to look at it.  _Magenta._ The base of it was black, but the grip was bright pink and pink details twisted up the muzzle. Fire, he realized, turning it over in his hand. 

“Why’s it pink?” He asked.

Jack blinked at him like an owl.

“Is that not your favorite color?” She asked, looking disappointed.

“No? Why would you think that?” Ray questioned, only growing more confused.

“Your sniper rifle,” She pointed out, “Why the hell would you have such a gaudy colored bolt action if it wasn’t your favorite color?”

“It isn’t mine,” he answered before he could stop himself, “This does look super dope though. I like the flames, let’s leave.”

Jack frowned at him, but lead him to an armored vehicle. He tried not to think about how painfully obvious his dodging the topic was. He climbed in the passenger seat as Miss Roadkill fetched something from the back. As she hopped in, he saw that it was his sniper. She set it between the seats and started up the vehicle. 

As they pulled out, Ray stared at the gun in his hand. He could kill her, he realized. She was always a great distance from the others. They trusted him enough to give him a gun and put a second within reach. They’d take his word for it, whatever he said.  _Idiots__._ He glanced at her and she glanced back, catching his gaze briefly. She smiled soft, sweet, and caring. He felt sick. He turned away, looking out the window.  _ Whatever. _

~~~

A string of gunshots fired over the heads of the occupants of the bank. Ray was fumbling with keys and lockpicks as Jack stood behind him, firing an auto. When Geoff said he’d be with Jack he was expecting get away vehicle or cover. He finally got the keys and picks in order and began unlocking the first of the boxes she’d told him. It was deathly quiet for a moment as he worked, the clinking of metal being the only sound. And then footsteps on tile, approaching the vault. 

“Exactly what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jack questioned.

He looked over his shoulder long enough to see a security guard was approaching. He was tall and broad-shouldered. He had a bit of a smug smile on his face.

“You’re not going to shoot,” he taunted her.

She open fired on his chest. He slumped to the ground, blood quickly pooling around his corpse.

“ _Men_ ,” she hissed, disgust clear in her voice.

She looked over her shoulder at Ray with a genuine smile.

“You alright?” She called softly, “Having trouble?”

“No, I got it,” he mumbled back, “Just got distracted.”

“No worries,” she assured him, turning back, “Not a soul is going to get to you unless they kill me first.”

Ray trembled as he tried to refocus on his job.  _Why??_ Why did she care??  His stomach was twisting and burning.  _Mothering,_ he thought bitterly only to flinch at the word. She _was_...a bit like his mother.  _Calm, collected, exasperated, caring, ruthless, kind._ His hands shook as the lock clicked open.  _ Whatever. _

He took a calming breath and dumped the contents of the box into the yellow bag. He swiftly moved to the next, then the next, focusing on the task and ignoring the warmth in his chest. As the lock released on the last box, he heard something in the silence.

_tick tick tick tick_

His eyes widened and he dove towards Jack, tackling her to the ground as the bomb exploded. He rolled away. His ears were ringing. Dust floated all around him. Was he breathing? He wondered. Pain pulsed from the back of his head and he giggled. He was drifting again, was he dying? He laughed louder. A blurry face floated above him.  _Soft. Warm._

“Mom?” He called softly.

He couldn’t see her face.  _Mom__._ He reached out. He was so close.  _Just a little...further...hold...on..._

_~~~_

He woke up in pain, as per usual. Now he had two wounds stitched up because of these assholes. He blinked away the blur in his eyes and sat up. He fumbled for his glasses and shoved them on. His sight was darker than usual. He blinked harder and his eyes darted around. 

“We gotta stop meeting like this,” he rasped at AH. 

Their faces were too distant to see properly. He swayed. He felt weak.  _Warm. Tired. Helpless._ He registered the needle in his arm and ripped it out. His hands were shaking as he flung it from himself. He shifted, slowly trying to get on his feet.  _Easy does it,_ he told himself,  _just get your feet under you._

“No,” a voice growled, “You are staying.”

A hand pressed against his chest. He was too weak to fight it as it pushed him down.  _ Warm. _

“I need to...finish...I don’t...have...time...”

He hated the way his weak mutterings struggled through his lips. He was tired, exhausted. He trying to wake himself up. His hand fluttered over his throat.  _No time__._ His eyes closed.

“Is he out again?”

The voice was muffled, but familiar.

“Looks like it.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault.”

“I-I know...I just..he...”

“I know, I know.”

_Reassuring, gentle__._ There was a puff of wind.  _A sigh against his cheek__._ He felt warm as he began to fade. Hands squeezed his and voices whispered to him things too sweet, too pretty to be for him.  _ Warm. _


	5. Chapter 5

Ray woke up feeling like he was starving. When had he last eaten?? Eating wasn’t important. He looked around the room. His babysitter was there again, reading.  _ Reading out loud .  _

“-very deep with waterfalls in them. There were dark ravines that one could neither jump nor climb into. There were bogs, some of th-“

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ray interrupted flatly.

Ryan almost jumped, looking startled. He looked like he might even be embarrassed, but Ray tried not to think about it.

“Er, Jack said reading might be a good idea,” he answered, closing the book, “How do you feel?”

“Like a psycho is reading  The Hobbit  to me while I’m starving to death.”

Ryan’s laugh burst from him and his eyes twinkled. Ray’s chest was warm again. Ryan’s laugh was throaty, raspy and lit up his whole face, even with the paint.  _ Warm . _

“What do you want?” He asked, voice still tinged with amusement, “I’ll get you something.”

“Um.”

Ray looked at the ceiling.  _Food. Food?_ What did he normally eat?  Rice? White rice.  It was easy to make and filling enough that he wouldn’t be bothered later. 

“Rice?” He said, though it sounded more like a question.

“Sure, I’ll get some takeout,” Ryan offered, standing to leave the room, “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

Ray’s heart beat hard against his chest. Ryan _would_ be back, wouldn’t he? Ray’s eyes flicked to the door. He hadn’t left for good, right? Ray felt something cold as ice twist in his gut. He swallowed down the urge to vomit.  _He would be back, he said. So he’d be back. Probably. Maybe._ Ray jolted as he felt his anxiety squeeze him. Why did he care? Why did it matter if he came back? He forced himself to stare at the ceiling. He was too weak to touch his collar.  _Focus. Focus._

The door opened and Ryan shuffled back in. Ray nearly cried with relief. He came to Ray’s side and fiddled with the bed until it raised to a seated position. 

“I brought some OJ,” he mumbled as he sat down, “Food should be here soon.”

He pressed the drink into Ray’s hand which shook as he brought it to his lips. Ray was out of it, drifting in and out of the fuzz in his head. Finally, Ryan pressed food in his hands and he gratefully began to eat. It tasted like nothing, but flavorless mush.  _Normal._ But there were uneven pieces. When Ray could think clearly again, he stared down at the box of rice. Chicken, peas, carrots, eggs, rice.  _Chicken fried rice_ _._ How long had it been since he’d ate something with flavor? He scooped more into his mouth.  _Flavorless._ He sighed.  _Whatever._

“You want something else?” Ryan questioned, “Got noodles. And chicken. Egg rolls.”

“You didn’t specify any of that,” Ray pointed out, “Noodles” doesn’t tell me what kind.”

Ryan looked at him blankly for a minute before raising his chopsticks. Ray looked at the unbitten eggroll between them. He looked back at Ryan’s face as it twisted into an evil grin.  _Oops._

“Whoa, whoa, now! Easy there! We can talk about this! No need to re-“

He was interrupted by the eggroll plugging his mouth. Ryan pulled away laughing and Ray glared at him. He rolled his eyes and bit down on the eggroll. His eyes widened.  _Crunchy. _ _Not mushy._ He chomped on the flaky roll. As he chewed it, it turned to mush again and he swallowed it. He munched the other half, turning it to mush and swallowed it.  _Weird. _

“You alright?” Ryan asked, nudging his knee, “You’re spacing out.”

Ray looked at him, wanting to snap at him, but his look stopped him.  _Concerned._

“I can’t taste,” he blurted.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Ryan answered, looking like he’d realized something, “One second, I’ll be back.”

He left Ray behind looking utterly baffled. He was back before Ray could even mutter “What?” He pushed a chocolate bar into Ray’s hands.

“Eat,” he commanded.

Ray did as he was told. He was very good at that.  It was sweet  he thought vaguely, as he broke off a piece. But he couldn’t nail down anything else.  _Sweet_ _._ Well, it wasn’t flavorless. It was still mush, but it was thinner. He looked down at his hands, laying in his lap. What was he doing? He didn’t have time for this. He folded the chocolate wrapper back over it and dropped it on the bedside table.

He struggled to his feet and looked around for his hoodie. Right, it’d been soaked in blood. He looked down at the shirt he was wearing. It wasn’t his and he couldn’t remember when he put it on. He shuffled around, locating his shoes under a table. On top of the table was the beautiful pink handgun, his wallet, and his phone. He put his shoes on and gathered his things. His hand fluttered over the gun. 

“Where’s my sniper rifle?” He asked, not turning to look at Ryan.

“Armory.”

Ray’s heart pounded in his chest as his hand hovered. Technically, he had the advantage. Surprise and the fact Ryan had no firearm on him. If he whirled around and put a bullet in his eye, one of four objectives would be complete. Then all he’d have to do would be track down the others who were no doubt somewhere nearby. His hand laid over the gun.

However, his chances of success were not high. The shot would echo through the place. They’d all hear it and come running. Maybe he could get three more shots off, but it wasn’t likely, even with his speed and aim. He could practically feel his pulse in his hand as he picked up the gun. It felt like his blood was rushing around the gun, just under his skin.

What he definitely could do, he thought, gripping the gun tightly, was turn the thing on himself. He knees felt weak as he looked at it. If he put it in his mouth like they did in movies, how far would his brains splatter? He gripped one hand around the muzzle. It was almost like a dick, he thought, laughing at how stupid that was. 

”Hey, Ray?” Ryan called out, “You wanna check out the armory?”

”How do I say “hell fucking yes” without sounding like a freak?” He answered, a manic smile spreading across his face.


	6. Chapter 6

“These are mine,” Ryan said, pointing out what was certainly the largest portion in the armory.

“Fuckin sick,” Ray whispered, his eyes wide.

Rows and rows of cases and cabinets of drawers. Guns. Some so old they’d probably fall apart if you sneezed near them. Some so customized Ray wasn’t completely sure what the base weapon was. Melee weapons. Knives upon knives, each more wicked than the last. Machetes and axes sharp enough to cut clean through a limb. A few oddities like bolas, shurikens, and clubs. Ray’s fingers brushed the edge of the cabinets. He didn’t even want to think about how hard his suicide boner was.

“I think I got something you’ll like,” Ryan said, close to Ray’s ear.

Ray shivered as he watched Ryan walk to a particular case. He followed cautiously, fear and excitement buzzing in his skin. His head was going fuzzy and he couldn’t quite think straight. Something about the other man was intoxicating, magnetic. It didn’t help the dude was hot as hell. Ray stopped next to him as he pulled a weapon from the case. Before he even put it in his hands, Ray recognized it. His eyes went wide as his hands closed around the double barrel. 

“Oh god,” Ray breathed, “A Hemingway.”

He slid his palm down the barrel. He shouldn’t be touching it with bare hands, he knew, but he couldn’t help running his hand up and down it. He felt hot, too hot. He turned it upwards, muzzle directed at his own face. His heart was pounding, his head was throbbing, and his cock pulsed to life. He wrapped his hand around the bottom, laying his finger over the trigger. His lips parted and he swayed towards the muzzle. His mouth clamped down and his eyes closed. He was shaking, his knees weak. _Flexing a finger..._he shuddered and groaned. 

Suddenly the weapon was yanked from him and he was left reeling, the taste of gunmetal still on his tongue. Ryan was putting it away, his face twisted into a scowl.

“It’s not even loaded,” Ray protested breathlessly.

Ryan slammed against him with a force that rattled the cabinet he shoved him into. Ray’s groan was cut off by Ryan’s tongue shoving in his mouth. Ray could barely breathe. Ryan hoisted him up by his ass and Ray wrapped around him as their hips began to grind together. Fuck it hurt, his back rubbing against the stiff metal of the cabinet, Ryan’s demanding mouth devouring his, their jeans rubbing against each other awkwardly. Ray pulled away to breathe and moan. 

“Fuck!” Ryan growled in his ear, “Were you trying to seduce me? Or are you just naturally so fucking lewd? You looked so fucking slutty moaning around that gun like it was a cock. I thought the motorcycle was sexy, the way you clung to me and moaned I wanted to stop and throw you down and fuck you right on the road. Give you road rash all up your back while you screamed for me.”

Ray couldn’t stop the horribly lewd noises coming from his mouth. Ryan started biting at his neck as his hands went for Ray’s jeans. Ray gripped the back of his jacket for dear life as Ryan’s hand dove in his boxers. He was yanking Ray into a different angle like he was made of clouds. Ray groaned as he practically ripped his jeans up his thighs towards his knees. 

“Ah, ha!!! I knew it!”

Ray flinched, Ryan growled. Ray pushed away enough to look at Michael who snapped a picture on his cellphone. 

“Ha, you owe me 50 bucks, chump!” Michael laughed.

“It’s not over yet!” Ryan yelled at him as Michael retreated, “Goddamnit.”

His head dropped to Ray’s shoulder. 

“So...what the fuck?” Ray asked.

Ryan lifted his head, but Ray interrupted his explanation with a burst of laughter. Ryan also started laughing, wheezing a bit as he did.

“Your face is all smeared with paint!” They choked out between giggles.

Ray wiped paint from around his mouth, laughing at his fingers now covered in black and white and blue. He rubbed at his eyes. 

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered tiredly, his head throbbing, “I need a shower...and sleep.”

Ryan yanked his jeans back over his ass and carried him from the room. Ray buried his face in his shoulder. He didn’t feel too great. Vigorous activity was probably not the best idea. He barely registered Ryan helping him shower and dressing him. He was barely awake as Ryan carried him back to the hospital bed. 

“No,” Ray muttered, squeezing tighter, “Don’t cold.”

Ryan kissed his forehead and took him elsewhere. He laid him down gently in a soft, comfortable bed. Ray felt like he was a kid again. He was forgetting something, he thought, as Ryan pressed him close. He snuggled into the warmth and started fading again.

“...just a few minutes...” he muttered through his sleep, “Just...a...little...”

~~~

When Ray woke up in a strange bed with a stranger, he rolled on him, hands around his neck. Blue eyes blinked tiredly at him.

“Bit early for that isn’t it?” Ryan mumbled around a yawn.

Right. _Right._ Ray hopped from the bed like it was on fire. Right. Right. He needed to..._leave. Die. Scream. Cry._ He sprinted from the room and down the hall only to run face first into another solid, warm body. 

“Fuck!” Geoff shouted, scrambling to catch Ray so he wouldn’t fall, “Whoa, easy, buddy. Why are you running like there’s a fire?”

Ray tried to speak, but only sputtering came out.

“Ah, shit,” Geoff muttered, “Is this a panic attack? Fuck, how does Michael do it?”

Ray’s head was spinning. _What what what what what._ Geoff lowered him to the ground and pressed his head between his legs. 

“Alright, take it easy,” he mumbled, “Uh, um. Breathe? In the nose, out the mouth. I think?”

Ray was spinning, he was falling, he was out of control. Muffled voices were around him. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. Suddenly a familiar hand was on his back and a familiar voice in his ear.

“Hey, Ray,” Michael whispered, “You’re alright, buddy. I’m here, I got you. Can you breathe for me? Just like last time, Ray. In through your nose.”

Ray sucked in a shaky breath.

“There you go, good job, Ray. Now out through the mouth just like a sigh. You’re alright, Ray.”

Ray puffed out a sigh. He choked around a sob and launched himself into Michael’s arms. Michael whispered sweetly in his ear as he cried into his chest. He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until there was nothing left. He was holding onto Michael so desperately his hands were going cold. 

“Is he okay?” Ryan whispered nearby.

He sounded horribly worried and Ray’s heart clenched.

“He’s fine,” Michael assured him, “He’s strong. He’s gonna be fine.”

Was he? Was he going to be fine? He didn’t think that was possible.

“Food?” Ryan offered.

“Sure, he’s coming down,” Michael answered, “Go grab some pizza.”

“Got it.”

“Wait,” Ray croaked hoarsely, “R-Ryan.”

The man was there before he finished saying his name.

“What do you need?”

Ray couldn’t look at him. He reached towards his voice. Ryan grabbed his hand and squeezed gently. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled, muffled by Michael’s chest.

“Ray, don’t be sorry,” Ryan whispered back, “You can’t help it, I know. Don’t you worry about me.”

Ray’s chest hurt. Why were they so understanding? Why did they care so fucking much? He dropped his hand and Ryan hesitated as though he wanted to stay. He whisked away and Ray almost wished he had stayed.

“Michael,” he muttered, “Why are they like that?”

“They’re good people,” Michael answered, “Totally batshit, but good. In their hearts. And each of them has a pretty tragic backstory too.”

Ray huffed out a laugh. How did he let it come to this? How had he strayed so far from his mission? He’d practically fucked one of them in the armory, dove to save another at risk of his own injury, and was uselessly, helplessly clinging to another. Great, now he just needed to go on a bonding mission with Geoff to complete the quad of psychos. He...didn’t know what to do any more. Michael was right. They were good in their hearts...she’d never forgive him if she knew he’d sacrificed them for her...but he was so close. He’d finally got a promise. After all this time, to just give up? What was he supposed to do? He wished...she was there to tell him what was right.


	7. Chapter 7

_I was joking! _

He slumped down in the passenger seat and groaned. Geoff was looking chipper though. Ray turned his head to look at him. He was practically bouncing in his seat. 

Ray sighed. He still hadn’t gotten a real answer for the question “Why the fuck are they so happy all the fucking time??” He wasn’t exactly expecting one at this point. He figured Fake AH would continue being the most bizarre group of criminals he’d ever met and he’d never know for sure where the fuck their heads were at. Or hearts, he thought, his mind recalling what Michael had said.

He looked back out the window. His chest squeezed painfully. If he had met them before or after even, would he have been their friend? If he didn’t have someone depending on him, would he join them for real? Would they all still like him if this insane set of circumstances hadn’t put them together? Did they even like him now? Or were they just pretending since he was at least a mediocre shot? He was tired of thinking. He wanted to go back to the roof, shoot them all in their stupid, happy faces and finally be done. _Finally._

“Hey, Ray,” Geoff called to him.

Ray lazily rolled his head.

“What?”

“You want some Taco Bell?”

Ray stared at him for a second. _What?_

“Why cuz I’m brown?” He asked.

“No, cuz I’m gonna stop,” Geoff answered, “Just wanted to know if you’re hungry.”

“No.”

Ray rolled his head back to the window. _What the fuck?_ Weren’t they on a job? _Whatever._ As Geoff pulled out from the drive-thru, he dropped the paper bag in Ray’s lap. 

“This is the Geoff Mystery Bag, dude,” Geoff explained, “I give em thirty bucks and they make whatever they want. Reach in and discover your fate.”

He wiggled his fingers at Ray before plunging his hand in the bag. 

“Burrito, nice.”

As they stopped at a stoplight, Geoff unwrapped his prize and started eating.

“Ooo, shredded chicken.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at Ray and gestured towards the bag. Ray stared at it a moment.

“What if I pull out something gross?” He argued.

“Ray, you are too damn cautious,” Geoff grumbled, “If it’s gross then you pick again. Or you suck it up. Eating gross is better than not eating. I’m gonna go full dad on you and make this into a metaphor unless you fucking eat something.”

Ray threw him a disgusted look and reached in the bag. He also pulled out a burrito and as it turned out, the same as Geoff.

“Haha! Fate has spoken!” Geoff laughed, “We are burrito buddies for life.”

“For life” echoed in his head. He frowned at the burrito. _I really was being sarcastic when I said I needed to bond with him!_ Ray ate the burrito and he tried not to think about how he could just barely taste it. 

~~~

_Bingo!_

Ray grinned widely as the lock released. Yet another lock down. As he began to pull the heavy door of the safe open, he realized something. 

He hadn’t told them he could crack this lock. Nor had he mentioned he could crack any of the others. He never said he could fire a handgun properly. He never said his name was Ray. Blood drained from his face. They knew of him some how. They had information on him. How much?? Were they specifically targeting weak spots?? How did they find information?? Did they know about his boss? Did they realize why he was stuck with the guy and couldn’t disobey? His breathing was harsh.

But...if they knew who he worked for, his full name, his background, why hadn’t they killed him? He’d been vulnerable so many times. Maybe if they were a lesser gang, they’d be after his skills, but they were Fake AH. They didn’t need him or skills. So why? To fuck with him? Even for them, this was too complicated and insane to be just a game. Were they after his boss? If they were, they should know Ray held no sway over the man, had no information, and was possibly the worst inside man. 

Ray stared at the safe door. His hand reached out on its own and pulled it open. Inside was a wooden box, a thick Manila envelope, and a hunting knife. Ray stared at the knife, it was familiar. His hand was steady as he grasped it. _Pink_. It was _pink_. His hand tightened around it. He couldn’t look away from it, couldn’t look at the remaining contents of the safe. Couldn’t move. Everything was still.

“Ray.”

Geoff was talking to him. Whispering gently. 

“I-I didn’t know...we thought...”

He couldn’t find words, but Ray didn’t care. He didn’t need words any more. The curtain had fallen. The show was over. He had been the only one left acting. A fool dancing alone for an empty auditorium. The knife in his hand was the final set piece, the only thing left. It was time for him to take his bow and exit. 

“Friends applaud,” he whispered, “The comedy is finished.”


	8. Chapter 8

Geoff Ramsey regretted many things in his life. He was human, after all. There were hundreds of little things he should’ve done. Should’ve said “I love you” more, should’ve tried harder to keep people around, should’ve killed less people probably, should’ve cherished moments he’d never get back. These things did haunt him, but it was the big things that kept him up at night, crying in Jack’s arms. 

As he sat beside the hospital bed, his most recent regrets weighed heavily on his shoulders. He shouldn’t have taken him to the last safe. Probably shouldn’t have taken him to any of them, for that matter. Should’ve unlocked the thing himself. Should’ve known before they went what was in it. Should’ve tried harder to make the right words come out. Should’ve been quicker when the kid had raised the knife. Should’ve told him in the first place they were looking for his mom. Should’ve let him prepare himself. Should’ve just told him in the beginning what their plans were. 

He buried his face in his hands. Even if the kid woke up, he would never be the same. The damage was done. The kid was an orphan who would and should hate him for what he did. There was no way to apologize for this, because there was no apology that could help. No apology that could be accepted. Geoff could do nothing but wait for the kid to wake up and display his anger. Then he would leave and he’d make sure the kid was taken care of without showing his face. He begged the kid to wake up, but not for his own sake. The kid deserved to live. 

~~~

Jack spent her time with him reading to him. She’d heard that people in a coma could hear what you said. She wanted him to hear stories so he didn’t get bored in there. She teased him sometimes, threatening to not finish the story until he woke up, but she couldn’t make herself do it.

She reminded him every time she saw him that he had a family still. Assured him that they were waiting patiently and that they missed him. She would squeeze his cold hand and tell him they all loved him. And she would apologize again and again. She had never thought their search would end how it did, but even if it’d been a happy fairy tale ending, she knew they should’ve told him from the start.

~~~

Michael was the only one who would curl up on the bed with him. He’d whisper to him, telling him he’d be okay, that he’d pull through, that he loved him. He hoped his body heat would encourage him to come back. And he would talk forever about all the things he didn’t share with the others. He would cry and cling to him and beg him to wake up. 

He apologized too, afraid that he may never wake up to hear it. He told him he was sorry they were so secretive. He apologized for their first meeting and he insisted he’d kiss him properly if he’d just wake up.

~~~

As with most of his interactions with others, Ryan was very quiet when he visited. He would hold his hand tightly and lay his head on his chest. He never had the words to express what he felt. He would just lay there until he was forced to leave, sometimes even falling asleep. Then he would press a kiss to his forehead and whisper that he loved him.

His first visit he told him, that he wished they’d known what was in the safe, that he was sorry he had to find out like that. He was worried he wouldn’t open up to them, if they’d revealed the plot too early. He was terrified they’d ruin things for him if they tried to bring him in too early. And he spoke in a very tiny whisper as he told him that something like that had happened to him. He said he was sorry he let his own experiences cloud his judgement. And he never spoke of it again.

~~~

When his eyes finally pried themselves open, it was Geoff beside him. He was swaying where he sat, looking pale and sick. His face was gaunt, haunted by his mistakes. 

“Geoff?” Ray whispered, his raspy voice barely audible.

Geoff’s face jerked up in surprise and his eyes went wide.

“Ray! Oh my god you’re awake!”

He was leaning over him in seconds, squeezing his hand and assuring him he was safe.

“C-calm,” Ray croaked.

“Sorry.”

Geoff sat, releasing his grip on Ray’s hand. He fumbled with his phone, but Ray reached for him.

“What is it? What do you need?”

“N-not...y-your...f-fault...” He rasped.

Geoff eyes were full of tears. He hadn’t even let him apologize and he was already forgiving him. 

“M-mom? Wh-Where?”

“Oh, right. We put her in your room. Along with all her things. We didn’t want to do anything until you woke up.”

“Th-thanksss.”

“Ray, I’m so sorry,” Geoff cried, trying to hold himself together.

“I know,” he spoke in careful whispers, “I h-heard.”

Geoff puffed out a nervous sort of laugh.

“I guess Jack was right,” he mumbled.

“No m-more h-hobbitsss.”

Geoff laughed again, a relieved, genuine laugh. Ray smiled at him.

“B-b-betterrr t-tex-ext th-them.”

The rest of Fake AH descended in a flurry of hugs and tears. Ray felt relieved. Alive. Hopeful, even. He was so glad to have found them. Even knowing what would come next, he was happy and filled with love. He smiled more with them than he had his entire life. He was melting as he looked at them all gathered around him. _Warm._


	9. Chapter 9

Months after Ray was released from the hospital, the others woke up to find him missing. His sniper, 45, and knife were missing as well and the few clothes he owned were also gone. They found a folded note on his pillow.

_My dearest family,_

_Take a deep breath, dorks. This isn’t a suicide note. And I’m trying really hard to make this legible, so be grateful._

_I’m leaving, obviously. Why else would I write a note like it’s the 1700s? You should know, but I’ll tell you anyway: this isn’t about me not loving you or not being able to deal with your bullshit. I love you all and your bullshit. I won’t completely disappear, I promise. I’ll send a postcard at least. _

_Don’t worry about me. I’m not going off to die or to put myself in danger to get killed. My suicide boner is down to like 75%, so I’ll be safe from my freaky libido. Probably. I don’t want you guys to think I’ll be out here with my ass on a saw blade. So don’t be such worriers._

_I can’t tell you what I’ll be doing, but I promise once it’s over, I’ll be back in your gross, sweaty arms. The good news is there’s loads of lost boys to swoop in and save, so you won’t even miss me. When I get back, let’s play._

_All my gay love,_

_Ray Narvaez Jr._

_P.S. Michael won the bet, Ryan. Pay up. I love you._

“Ha! Straight from his mouth!” Michael jeered, shoving a shoulder into Ryan’s, “Pay me my money, yo!”

Ryan grumbled half-heartedly as he passed a crumpled 50 to the triumphant one. He sighed. He couldn’t really be mad though. He smiled. 

“What’s this about?” Jack questioned.

“They bet who’d end up banging him,” Geoff answered tiredly, “Or I guess, which one he’d fall for.”

“That’s pretty twisted, guys,” she said, shaking her head.

“Michael didn’t even try though,” Ryan grumbled.

“Neither did you!” Michael barked back, laughing, “He just threw himself at you!”

He made a dramatic swoon motion and fell towards Ryan who instinctively caught him.

“Ooo, Mister Vagabond!” He cooed, “You’re so big and strong!!”

Ryan dropped him with a thump. Technically he was winning, because he got to be with Ray in the end. He looked at the note again and smiled.

_I love you too. Hurry up and come home, idiot._

Somewhere in the world Ray Narvaez Jr. sneezed suddenly.


	10. Chapter 10

Ray took a deep breath, in through the nose. He puffed out the sigh as he squeezed the trigger. Out through the mouth. _One shot, one kill._ He smiled softly as he thought of his family. He leapt to his feet, slinging the bolt-action on his back as he sprinted across the roof. 

He’d be able to see them again soon, he just needed to finish his mission.

He slowed to a jog as he crossed the board to the other roof. On the other side, he tipped the board with his heel, caught it and dropped it on the roof. He restarted the sprint to the far edge of the roof. He grabbed the rope as bullets started pinging against metal and brick around him. He repelled down to the open window, slid through, and closed it. He drew the curtains and collapsed on the floor. 

“Phew,” he muttered breathlessly, “Just a million more to go.”

He laughed and grinned as he caught his breath. He could hear the goons in the alley below questioning where the hell he went. _Idiots._ He pulled the bolt action from his back and gripped it fiercely. His fingers brushed over the initials there.

“Mom, you’d like them,” he whispered for the millionth time, “They’re just like you. Crazy, but full of heart. And totally ruthless.”

He smiled up at the ceiling. 

“Soon.”


End file.
